


The Feast

by dazzler



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Cloaca, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 05:15:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13517334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dazzler/pseuds/dazzler
Summary: He wanted to tell Esugen then: why he was afraid to pursue a relationship forbidden by both of their tribes, how much he wanted to anyway. But they were both exhausted, and a part of Mauci still doubted, despite everything, that Esugen felt the same way about him.





	The Feast

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE play the steppe sidequests i am begging you
> 
> listen i just made half of this lore up don't @ me. you can win a yol from wrestling a tough guy, why not?

Mauci faced his reflection in the lake one last time before setting out. He’d braided his hair and tied it up, hiding it under a cloth wrap. Rather than his usual Dotharli garb, he’d donned a simple black mourning tunic and vest, the kind usually worn by the Kahkol. In a fit of nerves, he’d also lined his eyes in gold paint and draped his horns in thin, gilt chains. Even if he was just to be serving food, he wanted to look nice for Esugen’s sake.

Dotharl Khaa was never so quiet as it was just before the dawn. Mauci slipped between the yurts with soft steps, careful not to wake any of their inhabitants. He hoisted the pack he was carrying up on his shoulder, full of small gifts and trinkets for Esugen and Jelme.

“Mauci? Are you going out again?”

He froze, squeezing his eyes shut at the sound of Khulan’s voice from inside her tent.

“I’ll be gone for several days,” he said. “Please don’t tell the khatun.”

“I won’t,” she whispered back. She came outside and gave him a hug, her body still sleep-warm. “But be careful, alright? Come find me when you return, if I’m not out hunting.”

He nodded, feeling his throat close on a reply, and fled before she could say anything else.

Khulan often caught him in a distracted mood these days, neglecting his chores, thinking only of his next meetings with Esugen. She was no fool, and Mauci was a terrible liar-- it was obvious he was hiding something.

Worry clawed at his stomach all the way across the steppe. They’d managed to avoid detection thus far by meeting at odd times and taking certain precautions. Mauci never set foot inside the Dawn Throne, and Esugen didn’t get within eyesight of Dotharl Khaa. The Oronir could easily become suspicious of how Esugen went out hunting and returned with such a generous bounty. Thankfully, they usually didn’t pay enough attention to the tribe’s weakest warrior to notice.

Mauci noticed, though. He saw how happy Esugen was to be doing what he loved. And it made him feel like the luckiest Xaela in the steppe to be able to hunt with him. Even if he couldn’t always keep up physically, Esugen had a keen sense of smell and was an excellent tracker.

On their last foray, Esugen had become too tired to walk, and Mauci had carried him back to the Dawn Throne, draped over his shoulder like one of his kills. He’d pressed his hands to the backs of Esugen’s thighs and felt his body heat, smelled his sweat and the scent of the cookfire. Mauci had lain awake thinking about it for a week afterward.

The guilt and anxiety wore off the farther he got from the village, when his feet landed on lush green grass and the wind whipped his hair. By the time he saw Esugen waiting for him in the shadow of Azim’s fingers, it had vanished completely.

“Mauci, how striking you look!” Esugen said, giving him an approving look that made warmth creep up the back of Mauci’s neck.

“Am I so easy to recognize?” he asked, peering down at his friend. Esugen beamed at him.

“Only to me, I’m sure,” he said. “Come, I will show you where we will be working.”

For the first time in his life, Mauci did what no other lone Dotharli warrior would dare-- he walked across the bridge over the Azim Khaat, passing beneath Azim’s stone gaze. A muscular Oroniri guard stopped them at the gate. Mauci bristled at the way he grabbed Esugen’s shoulder with more force than necessary. “Who is this, Esugen?”

“Kuzuku, this is Yisu, my assistant from the Kahkol tribe,” said Esugen. “I hired him to help me.”

“You have friends other than Jelme?” Kuzuku said, blinking at him. Mauci frowned. “I mean, sorry. Of course you do. Go on, then. Save me some of those cakes for later.”

The gate opened into a dark, narrow staircase made of stone. Cracks in the masonry let in narrow shafts of light to let Mauci know where to place his feet, while Esugen walked without looking down.

“Sorry about him,” Esugen said as soon as they were out of earshot. “He is not always careful with his words.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Mauci. When Esugen went quiet, Mauci thought he’d better change the subject. “You made cakes?”

“I had some help with the ingredients from the Oroq,” said Esugen. His voice brightened as he launched into a description of the many desserts he was preparing for the celebration. Mauci hurried up the stairs before he started to drool on himself.

They arrived at a platform, and though there were stairs yet above them, Esugen directed him out of a wooden door and into the village. The palace gleamed in the daylight, and all around them were Xaela talking and laughing and preparing for the celebration. The whole village was a flurry of activity, so much so that no one noticed Mauci walking to the edge of the Throne and gawking like a lost sheep.

Up this high, everything looked peaceful. He could see clearly where grassland gave way to desert, where rivers carved winding, snake-like trails through the earth. He felt as though he could reach out and touch the sun.

He turned to Esugen, who was watching him. Mauci took his hand and tugged him onto the observation deck. “It’s beautiful! You can see the whole steppe from up here! I bet I can find my yurt.”

“Mauci!” A small voice called out, and something crashed into him around his midsection. Mauci laughed, lifting Jelme up and spinning him around.

“Remember, while he is here, we will call him Yisu,” said Esugen, though he was smiling. Mauci swung his pack off his shoulder and produced several carved wood figures. Jelme took one, a tiny yol, and turned it over in his hands, eyes wide.

“Oh.” Esugen peered over the edge again. “The couple will be arriving soon, look.”

Mauci joined him, watching as two riders on horseback sped toward the gate.

“It’s very romantic. They met while she was tending to the lanterns, and they became lovers,” said Esugen. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Magnai is jealous as usual, but I think he’s excited to have something to do. He’s been terribly bored since our foreign friends left.”

“I heard that,” said Jelme loudly, because he had not, and he was upset that Esugen was not including him in the conversation.

“Grow two fulms, and then you can listen for yourself,” said Mauci, laying a hand on his head. Jelme shoved out his lower lip in a pout, and Esugen covered his mouth to stifle his laughter.

The couple ascended the stairs holding hands, and they arrived in the village to happy shouts and showers of flower petals. Adya of the Oronir wore traditional gold, but her face was painted in brilliant, joyous blues and greens, curling in complex patterns over her light brown skin. She was almost as tall as Magnai, towering over her tiny bride, and she had the look of a powerful warrior.

Esugen always spoke well of Adya, although Mauci was wary of her. Mauci had not been old enough to join the raiding parties when it happened, but it was only seven summers ago that the Dotharl crushed the Hotgo. The few surviving members, like Adya, had joined the Oronir.

The woman at her side, Nakhu of the Oroq, stood perhaps four and a half fulms tall. Her silver attire complimented her dark blue skin. Amidst the celebration, she wore a rather serious expression, or perhaps her headdress was just too large, casting her eyes in shadow.

The Oroqi guests had brought forth their sleds, laden with gifts and decorated with wreaths of colorful flowers. Mauci watched, transfixed, as Adya took one of the wreaths and placed it atop Nakhu’s horns.

“Come,” said Esugen, tugging at his arm. “We should begin preparations for the feast.”

 

 

Mauci worked without complaint. In truth, he was excited to be there, meeting Esugen’s people, seeing where he lived. And Esugen seemed thrilled to be cooking such a grand meal, smiling and humming to himself. 

“I am fortunate to have someone to carry all these things. It would be impossible for me to get through several days of feasting without help,” said Esugen, beaming at him. “Oh, would you grab that dish over there? No, not that-- yes, yes, that one.”

“What are you doing?” Mauci rocked on his heels, peering over Esugen’s shoulder as he crouched in the grass.

“I’m making boodog,” said Esugen. His sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, which were covered in blood. “Have you tried it?”

Mauci shook his head.

“It’s dzo cooked with stones in the stomach. If you rub the warm stones in your palms afterwards, it’s supposed to give you more stamina.” Esugen wiped his forehead with the back of his arm. “It’s never worked for me, but I’ll make it for you some time.”

“Sounds delicious!”

It made Mauci glow with pride, knowing that the guests enjoyed his friend’s cooking. He carted tray after tray of clean bones out of the throne room, which was currently in use as a banquet hall.

He returned with a pitcher of kumis to find that a hush had fallen over the assembled. At the front of the room, Adya was speaking. Nakhu stood next to her. For their first dinner as wives, the couples’ left and right hands had been tied with a scarf so they could feed one another, symbolizing their commitment to care for each other for the rest of their lives.

“Nakhu didn’t want to give a speech today, but she agreed to let me embarrass her for a bit.” Adya flashed her new wife an apologetic grin. Nakhu looked at the floor and blushed. “Since I lost my clan, you have taken me in and treated me as one of your own sisters, and for that I am eternally grateful. Now I ask you to accept someone else into our family.”

Someone in the audience cheered. Adya continued, twining her hand with Nakhu’s.

“She brings with her a gift for herding and understanding animals. She is patient, but firm; sweet, but strong. I find it fitting that I met her while tending to the lanterns,” said Adya, “for she is my light, my moon, and she will always guide me home.”

Nakhu went very still as Adya turned and kissed her cheek, but she was smiling for the first time since Mauci had seen her. He felt jealousy and longing prickle at his eyes like a wind carrying grains of sand. It was a shameful feeling. He’d spent such a long time lamenting the circumstances of his rebirth, yet it never occurred to him to regret being born Dotharli at all.

With her speech finished, the responsibility of giving a toast fell to Magnai.

“To Adya and Nakhu,” he said, raising his bowl. “May we all be so fortunate as to find our destined match before we become old and infirm.” He threw back his head and gulped down the entire bowl of kumis. There was some nervous, scattered sounds of approval, and the meal resumed.

At the front of the room, Nakhu whispered something to Adya, who leaned closer. Mauci’s face heated at having witnessed a private moment.

When he looked away, he saw one of the Buduga men was staring at him. No-- not one of the Buduga men. Daidukul. The eyepatch was unmistakable. Mauci ducked his head lower and went to pour more kumis with unsteady hands. Daidukul’s gaze moved down his shoulders, to his arms--

“What tribe did you say you were from?” he asked.

Mauci cleared his throat. “Kahkol.”

“Shame the Buduga did not find you first.”

“You’ve had too much to drink,” said the Oronir beside him, cuffing him on the back of the head. Daidukul let out a displeased yelp. “Flirting with the cook’s assistant. Shame on you.”

“Wasn’t _flirting_ , Baatu,” Daidukul muttered, but he left Mauci alone after that.

As evening fell, the kumis began to flow more freely, and the songs started up. Mauci was relieved of his duty and returned to the cookfire, where Esugen sat nursing a cup of hot milk. Mauci’s heart lurched when Esugen looked up and smiled at him.

“I sent Jelme to bed early,” Esugen said. “He was most displeased with me.”

“I’m certain he will forgive you someday.”

Esugen’s yurt was shared with two other Oronir, both of whom were still at the wedding party. Mauci had every intention of sleeping on the ground, but Esugen motioned for him to lie on the bed. He climbed in beside Mauci and pulled a blanket over them. Perhaps he should have been more nervous or hesitant-- sharing a bed with the object of his affections, spending the night in a village full of enemies-- but Mauci was mostly just tired and grateful for Esugen’s presence.

It was hard to believe Esugen would be there when he woke. Sometimes it caused an almost tangible ache in his chest, watching his friend return to the Dawn Throne at dusk and not being able to go with him.

“Thank you,” he murmured, before he fell asleep and forgot.

“No, thank you,” said Esugen, his voice soft and wavering. “For helping me. For... putting up with me. I know I can be difficult.”

“Esugen,” said Mauci. “You are the kindest soul I’ve ever met. To be by your side is no hardship, but it is worth any number of them.”

“Oh,” said Esugen. He shifted so that his back was pressed to Mauci’s. The gentle swelling of his ribcage with each breath was somehow soothing.  

He wanted to tell Esugen then: why he was afraid to pursue a relationship forbidden by both of their tribes, how much he wanted to anyway. But they were both exhausted, and a part of Mauci still doubted, despite everything, that Esugen felt the same way about him.

“We should rest,” said Esugen. “We’ll need our strength for tomorrow.”

As soon as he closed his eyes, Mauci fell into a deep, heavy sleep.

 

 

He woke in Esugen’s arms. It was not surprising-- the bed was small, and he knew from both previous experience and Khulan’s complaints that he tended to latch onto the nearest heat source as he slumbered. For a few moments, Mauci enjoyed the warmth, Esugen’s enticing smell, and the weight of Esugen’s leg slung over his. Without his head wrap, Esugen’s hair stuck up at all angles. Mauci found it cute. 

When Esugen opened his eyes, however, he appeared stricken, and he got up quickly while apologizing, dragging the blanket with him.

“Pray, ‘twas my fault,” said Mauci, bewildered.

Esugen swallowed, his cheeks darkening. Mauci watched his throat work, then looked away. “No, I… never mind. Could you step outside while I get ready?”

Mauci exited the tent without saying a word. Most of the Dawn Throne was still sleeping off their hangovers, and the village was quiet, covered in a pale morning fog.

“Mau-- sorry, Yisu! You’re finally up.” Mauci turned to see Jelme hop down from a pile of crates and run over. He stared up at him. “I thought about coming in, but Esugen told me not to disturb you two while you were in there.”

“Did he,” said Mauci faintly.

“Mm-hm.” Jelme fiddled with his sleeves. “Said you’d be tired from working.”

Esugen emerged after a spell. The dark circles beneath his eyes seemed more pronounced than usual, but he appeared otherwise recovered, ruffling Jelme’s hair in greeting. He did not look at Mauci when he spoke.

“Thanks to your help yesterday, I was able to finish a lot, so you could go watch the tournament later if you’d like. Jelme would be happy to go with you.”

“A tournament?”

“Bӧkh wrestling. Everyone teased me about not entering, but I will be seeing to the food,” said Esugen. He started toward the cookfire.

It was clearly a dismissal. Mauci tried to ignore the hurt prickling in his throat and followed after him.

He spent most of the morning washing the numerous dishes that had accumulated from a day of feasting. Jelme helped, chattering all the while about anything that came into view: the sheep, passing birds, other Au Ra. It was nice to take his mind off his worries, but he still found his gaze drawn to Esugen, who was busy chopping ingredients and checking on several large pots of meat.

When it came time for the tournament, Mauci wandered over to the field, Jelme in tow. On one side, the wedding party sat at a low table. The rest of the onlookers formed a ring around the contenders. Oroqi, Oroniri, and Budugan warriors faced one another down in small, tight-fitting outfits.

“I heard the first prize is a yol, and the runner-up gets a horse.” Jelme craned around the taller Xaela in front of them. “Do you think they’ll let me compete? I want a yol.”

“It might decide you’re the perfect size for a snack,” said Mauci teasingly.

“Don’t be silly,” said Jelme. “I want to get it for Esugen. He gets so tired from walking. Plus, he goes up there to feed the yol scraps when he thinks nobody’s watching.”

Mauci thought for a moment. No one had seen through his disguise thus far. Even Daidukul, who he’d faced in combat during the Naadam, had believed his lie. He crouched so they were at eye-level, putting his hands on Jelme’s skinny shoulders.

“Say nothing,” he said, and he walked over to the referee. Jelme followed, hovering anxiously at his elbow, stealing glances this way and that in a way that Mauci hoped the referee would put down to childish excitement.

He gave his name as Yisu and was instructed to go change.

“Watch for me,” he told Jelme with a wink before he left.

In the changing tent with several wrestlers, he stripped down to his smallclothes and wrapped his braid over his horns. Some of the others cast looks at his body that were both appreciative and apprehensive. Cheeks burning, he kept his eyes to the ground, not wanting to be recognized.

When his false name was called, Mauci walked into the ring, past two other pairs locked in combat, and faced the Oroniri woman who would be his opponent. They bowed to one another and then began to circle. Mauci tried to remember his training with the warrior of light. The calmer he was, the easier it became to tap into the skills of his predecessor.

Without warning, she lunged forward. Her body was short and sturdy, and she used this to her advantage, ducking around his arms and trying to trip him.

The struggle might have lasted a minute or a bell before she broke away and went for his knees. She missed, overextended, and he grabbed her around the waist and flipped her. She tumbled to the ground behind him in a heap.

“Yisu’s win!” the referee called out. They bowed to each other again and she moved away.

His next opponent was faster, but Mauci won in endurance, using his stamina to outlast the rapid attacks. He took on challenger after challenger until he noticed, abruptly, that there were only two Xaela left in the ring: himself, and the man guarding the gate the day before. By now, both of them were slick with sweat and breathing hard.

“So,” said Kuzuku, rolling his shoulders, “you’re Esugen’s assistant? If I beat you, will you cook for me?”

“I do not know how to cook,” said Mauci. He took a ready stance. Kuzuku laughed breathlessly and gripped beneath Mauci’s forearms, shoving their horns together.

Mauci pushed with all his strength. Kuzuku twisted, forcing him a step back, but Mauci held on, gritting his teeth. His arms shook and his muscles screamed at him with the effort of holding Kuzuku away.

There was no sound but his heart pounding in his ears and their ragged breathing. Blood dripped down his back as Kuzuku’s claws dug into his skin. He jerked Mauci sideways like a baras with a sheep in its mouth, shaking him back and forth and trying to throw him down.

Summoning one last burst of energy, Mauci hauled Kuzuku over his shoulder and flipped them both, ramming Kuzuku into the dirt just seconds before following him. He lay there, stunned from the impact and blinking up at the sky.

He’d won.

When he sat up, everyone around the ring was looking at him. People were cheering and shouting, for _him._ Kuzuku stood, brushed himself off, and grinned.

“Not bad, chef.”  

“I told you, I--” Mauci began, but his protest died on his lips when he saw Esugen standing in the crowd, torn between looking horrified and overjoyed. He staggered to his feet, head still spinning, only to have a hand catch his arm.

“I thought I recognized you,” said Daidukul. He bared his teeth. “You are Dotharli. The one who fights with his fists.”

A hush fell over the onlookers. Magnai’s face was a terrible mask of rage as he approached. “Why are you here? Spying on us for your leader?”

“No, I just came to help with the wedding--”

“Liar,” Magnai snapped. “You didn’t stop at sneaking into the village. You entered the tournament to humiliate our warriors.”

Magnai glared at him. Daidukul circled them both like a buzzard smelling blood.

“Brother Magnai!” Mauci froze, his heart seizing, as Esugen came running into their midst. He halted between him and Magnai and doubled over, panting. “Please, radiant brother, please hear me out…”

 _No. Get away, pretend you do not know me_ , Mauci wanted to cry.

“So this was your doing, cook.” Magnai reached out and grabbed Esugen by the collar, and Mauci actually _snarled_ , lunging for Magnai’s arm.

“Stop it!” Jelme rushed in to tackle Magnai’s leg, and Adya stepped in front of him. She was at eye level with Magnai. He scowled.

“How can you take his side? You, whose people were slaughtered by his? He is the reason you have no family here today.”

Mauci saw Nakhu’s hand twitch out of the corner of his eye, but Adya shot her a quelling look.

“Peace, Magnai,” Adya said. “He is young; he had no part in that. More importantly, he is here with Esugen and Jelme, our trusted brothers.”

“Yes. Indeed.” Magnai rounded on Esugen, whose lip quivered, but he did not move from in front of Mauci. Jelme darted to Esugen's side, clutching at the hem of his robes.

“Brother Esugen, do you want to tell us who this is?” Adya asked.

Esugen turned his chin up, his eyes blazing with defiance. “He is my Nhaama.”

A ripple of shock went through the assembled. Magnai looked as though his jaw had come unhinged.

“You’re,” Magnai cleared his throat, “you’re certain of this?”

Esugen’s hand found Mauci’s, clasping it tight. “Yes,” he said. “I am.”

“So even one such as you,” Magnai muttered. Behind him, Daidukul looked delighted with this turn of events.

“I’m sorry for lying to you all, but I brought him because I wanted to share my home with him,” said Esugen. Mauci squeezed his hand encouragingly. “I needed him here, and he came, even though it was dangerous. Because he cares for me.”

“Of course,” said Adya. “And I know Magnai wouldn’t dare ruin the festivities by trying to send him away.”

Mauci saw several Xaela in the audience nod in agreement. Magnai bristled, clearly outnumbered. 

“You have already bested some of our finest warriors in combat.” Daidukul’s grin widened, his pointed teeth flashing. “Your worthiness has been proven.”

“And the yol?” Jelme piped up, even as Esugen gripped his arm in warning.

Magnai let out a blustery sigh. “The yol is his. He won it fair enough.”

“What are you going to do with it?” Esugen asked. Mauci smiled at him.

“I think we should go flying.”

 

 

After they managed to escape the barrage of well-intended questions ("how did you two meet?" "is it true Dotharli souls live forever?"), the two of them took the yol for a ride and returned to the Dawn Throne after sunset.

Below the roof stables, the wedding party could still be heard carrying on inside the palace, the noises of talking and laughter not quite muffled by the white brick walls. Esugen stumbled when his feet hit solid ground, but Mauci reached out and held on to his waist, and the two of them stayed like that the whole way to Esugen’s tent. All around them, the village was bathed in silver by the light of the moon and stars. 

They ended up sitting on Esugen’s bed, Mauci acutely aware of every time the sides of their legs brushed.

“I don’t think anyone will forbid you from visiting from now on,” Esugen said. “You’re my Nhaama, after all.”

“I am...” he tested the phrase out, wondering, “your Nhaama.”

“It means--”

“I know what it means,” said Mauci. He leaned forward and pressed his fingers to Esugen’s mouth, feeling his breath on his fingertips, the curve of his smile. “You defended me earlier. It made me happy.”

“Yes, well. Don't worry me like that again.” Esugen’s hands went to Mauci’s chest, skimming down his abdomen, squeezing at his muscles.

Mauci couldn’t help but wince a little, his injuries from the tournament still tender.

“Does it hurt?” Esugen asked.

Mauci shook his head. He slid off the bed and went to his knees. Esugen made a startled sound.

“Be at ease,” said Mauci, nuzzling the side of Esugen’s calf with his cheek.

Esugen trailed his fingers over Mauci’s horns and settled them in his hair, tugging lightly at his braids.“It’s just, I’ve wanted this for a long time."

Mauci wet his lips. “How long?”

“Since-- since I fed you baras steak while we were out hunting and I nearly fell in the river and we spent the night together for the first time?”

Mauci shuddered, recalling how little he’d actually slept that night. “I remember. I couldn’t stop thinking about kissing you.”

“I’m worried I’ll disappoint you.” Esugen let out a self-deprecating little laugh. “You’re so young.”

“You won’t.” Mauci reached behind him and began massaging the base of Esugen’s tail. It curled around his wrist as he slid his hand to cup Esugen’s buttock, the scales cool on his heated skin. “You could never, Esugen.”

Mauci parted his robes and pulled his smallclothes down around his thighs, exposing his slit. Leaning forward, bottom lip catching between his teeth, he dragged his thumb over it. Esugen’s cock pushed out, red and wet, and Mauci couldn’t stop himself from tasting it, just a gentle lick over the head.

Now halfway exposed, his cock twitched, and a clear liquid dribbled down the shaft. Esugen made a soft noise of arousal that sent a shiver through him. Mauci responded by dipping his tongue inside and coaxing out the length of him. Esugen moaned, his voice high and threaded with need, his fists clenching in Mauci’s hair, and Mauci’s eyes fell shut.

“Oh, you feel amazing, Mauci.” Esugen rocked into his mouth, hands moving to his horns, gripping hard and tugging Mauci further onto his cock. Mauci thought he could hear both of their heartbeats in his horns, rapid and fluttering.

His mouth filled, his nose thick with Esugen’s scent, Mauci was only dimly aware of his own cock throbbing between his legs, pushing at the thin fabric of his smallclothes. He slid a finger into Esugen’s slit alongside his erection, feeling Esugen tighten around it.  

“Mauci,” Esugen gasped, “I’m close--” and Mauci’s mouth flooded with the warm, bitter taste of him. He drank greedily and licked up what remained as Esugen shuddered.

When he was finished, Esugen looked down, wide-eyed. “Do you want me to…”

“Don’t move,” said Mauci. He leaned his head against Esugen’s knee and took himself in hand. His lips felt raw and his jaw ached. He was impossibly hard. “You don’t have to do anything.”

Esugen’s gaze burned into him as Mauci touched himself. It only took several strokes before Mauci was thrusting into his hand and whimpering. Esugen moved his foot to rest on the inside of Mauci’s thigh, digging his heel in, and Mauci nearly cried out with the force of his arousal, gripping himself tight. He just needed--

“Please,” Esugen said, his voice gentle, “let me.”

Mauci came, a broken moan spilling from his lips, Esugen’s foot pressed lightly to his cock.

Afterwards, he wrapped his arms around Esugen’s waist and let Esugen stroke his hair and speak quiet words into his ear. “Stay with me, Mauci, don’t go.”

“I won’t, I won’t,” Mauci whispered back. They sat together for a long time. Eventually, Mauci crawled into his lap and they lay on the bed, Esugen curled around his back.

“I can see the Throne from my village,” Mauci said. “Sometimes, on nights when sleep does not come easy, I stay up and watch the lights and wonder what you are doing.”

“Probably thinking of you,” said Esugen. He pulled Mauci closer to his chest, and they held each other until they both slept.

 


End file.
